


Static

by BlkRse



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-01-31
Updated: 2014-01-31
Packaged: 2018-01-10 16:13:01
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,369
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1161839
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BlkRse/pseuds/BlkRse
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>He did the one of the last things she thought he would do. Harry started dancing. AU movie!verse Deathly Hallows Part 1.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Static

_Static…static…more static_.

Hermione kept turning the dial, fighting the urge to give up every time she heard static. She was tired of it. Tired of the static. Tired of the solemn voice that named the victims in the war. Most of all she was tired of the silence.

_Which is why I turned on this stupid-…ah._

_Music. Finally_. It was still a bit broken up with static but it was better than nothing.

Harry came in the tent then. He didn’t look at her. He’d been giving her space…space she did not want. She suspected the reason for the space was because of Ron’s absence. Plus, she had taken up the task of listening to the radio. Hermione knew Harry hated the radio but he never said anything to her about it.

In fact, Harry hadn’t mentioned the radio at all since Ron left…

Hermione sighed. _Ron._

She missed Ron. Truly. There wasn’t a day that went by that she didn’t think about him. When he first left, she was inconsolable. When it was her turn to guard the tent, she would sit outside with tears rolling down her face, the stab of betrayal in her heart. Over time the thought of him simply made her angry. Anger was fine, she could hide anger. Sadness…well when it came to matters of the heart she wore her sadness on her sleeve. After a while, her anger subsided to constant worry for Ron’s safety.

The Horcrux around her neck did not help her mood. It only made things worse, amplifying the negative thoughts in her head. She could feel it weighing on her, making it hard to breathe, slowly suffocating her in her own emotion.

Impulsively, she brought her chest closer to her knees, as if trying to curl into herself.

_Breathe_ , she said to herself. _Just breathe_.

Harry’s movement distracted her from her thoughts and she turned her head to face him. He stood in front of her and slowly held out his hand.

They had always had their own silent language and this was no different. Palm up, fingers outstretched his hand was telling her ‘ _come on then’_. She glanced at his face. His lips were pressed together and his eyes were patient and kind. _Trust me_.

With a sigh, she took his hand and let him help her to her feet. The first thing he did was take that Horcrux from around her neck. The relief was like taking a deep breath of fresh air. Harry took both her hands and gently pulled her to the open space of their tent. She was just about to ask what it was he was doing when he did the one of the _last_ things she thought he would do.

Harry started dancing.

Hermione desperately fought a grin. This was absolutely ridiculous. But then he smiled at her, the first real smile he had given her in a long time. Then he spun her, and she smiled too.

Harry Potter, The Boy Who Lived, the Chosen One, the Savior of the Magical World, was an awful dancer and he knew it. He began to over exaggerate his already ridiculous movements and Hermione suspected he did this just to make her smile.

It worked. Harry twirled himself and then twirled her again, his goofy grin making her laugh.

His arm wrapped around her, took her hand and executed a sorry attempt at a waltz. It was random. It was ridiculous. It was fun.

Hermione took a breath to get her laughter under control as Harry pulled her into his arms. With their ears pressed against each other, they swayed to the music. She took another deep breath and caught his scent.

Hermione’s mind immediately went to their sixth year Potions class. Amortentia. “It smells like what attracts us,” she had said. Cut grass, parchment…

_No._ Harry must have felt her become tense because he pulled her closer. She tried to ignore him, just like many other things she had tried to ignore when it came to Harry.

Honestly, she couldn’t help but notice that his laugh lines became more defined he thought something was funny but didn’t outright laugh. Or that when he was hiding something from her there would be a twinkle in his eyes that would betray his otherwise blank demeanor. Or his unique smell…

_No_ , she told herself again. She had buried her feelings along with the hope of becoming more than just friends a long time ago. They were simply friends, best friends, and nothing more. She understood that Harry would never look at her the way he looked at Cho or Ginny. That was fine. So she had forced herself to move on.

Meanwhile Ronald Weasley, for all his tactlessness, had managed to claim a place in her heart. He could be kind to her and make her laugh. Protect her. He could love her, she knew. She could love him too.

But she didn’t, at least, not in the way Ron deserved. There was always something in the way. Something, or rather, someone…

_No_. She took another breath to steady herself. Unfortunately she caught another whiff of Harry and there was no denying it now.

Soap. He smelled like soap. Not any kind of soap, no. He smelled like a Muggle brand of soap. Soap that she had bought for him when she found out that the soap at the Dursley’s house gave him a rash. It was the exact same smell that accompanied cut grass and parchment when she smelled the Amortentia potion. It had shocked her a bit to smell Harry Potter’s soap in a love potion. She thought those feelings had long since died and been buried. Apparently she was wrong.

She needed to get away from him. _Now_. Thankfully the song was beginning to succumb to more static so they pulled away from each other. Still within arm’s reach they just stood there, hands at their sides, and stared at each other.

“Hermione,” Harry said finally, his voice much deeper than usual.

Hearing his voice like that gave her goose bumps. Hermione tried to think of anything other than the man in front of her. It didn’t work. Her eyes slowly drifted down to his lips before flashing back up to the green of his eyes.

She had doomed herself in that one simple act. However, she would not cower and she would not back down. This was her friend, her best friend, and she had no reason to be afraid.

She quickly licked her bottom lip and held her head up a bit higher.

“Harry,” she answered, taking care not to let her voice tremble.

For a moment he said nothing and did nothing. Hermione thought they were going to enter another staring match when she noticed him quickly glance at her mouth. Her heart skipped when he held her hands in his and she didn’t dare move when he approached to kiss her.

At the last moment, just before their lips touched, Harry turned his head and gently pressed his lips against her cheek. Hermione eyes fluttered closed. She felt butterflies in her stomach and her heart felt like it could burst.

He stayed there with his lips on her cheek for what felt like an eternity, but when he pulled away Hermione felt like it had ended too quickly. Without another word, without another glance, Harry left the tent.

Hermione watched him go, doing nothing to stop him. Something… _happened_. Something had _changed_ between them. That was no friendly peck on the cheek whatsoever. That was…warm. And honest. And sincere. Maybe he felt the same…

She took two steps towards the exit before she stopped herself. Now was not the time. Right now, they needed to finish the task that Dumbledore had set before them. Right now they need to find and destroy the Horcruxes.

Maybe after the war was over they could talk about what just happened. Maybe once Harry completed his task they could be honest with each other. Until then…

Hermione resumed her post on the steps, turning the dial on the radio in search of something other than static.


End file.
